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I am applying a final coat of gloss to the new LOVE script.

Join me in my suite in fifteen minutes.

I will uncork the malt.

You are quite right, we need to talk.

	Lorraine Pallister – 1/12/00, 6:36pm
to:	Zoë Clarke
cc:
re:	that fucking, fucking bastard!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was supposed to be going to the flicks with Liam but he’s blown me out. He’s fucked off to the
Sun
to wait for the First Edition. Sad or what? Dry your eyes and call by my desk in five.

	[email protected] 1/12/00, 6:43pm (10:43pm local)
to:	[email protected]
cc:
re:	stand by

I am about to fax you the new LOVE script along with Brett and Vince’s excuse for an idea. Rush both to David immediately and ask him to respond urgently with his blessing. It’s late and I need to brief the director on what he will be shooting tomorrow.

	[email protected] 1/12/00, 7:07pm
to:	[email protected]
cc:	[email protected]
re:	LOVE

I have read your new work. I know time is of the essence so I will come straight to the point.

Your script is crap.

It was crap six months ago when it was a Safeway idea.

Sadly, it has not aged like a good wine. It is still crap.

Besides, though I am neither copywriter nor producer, even I can tell you that what you have written is not achievable given the limited time and resources you have. Where, for instance, are you going to
find a trained pig in the middle of the Indian Ocean? And do GI uniforms grow on the palm trees out there?

Shoot Brett and Vince’s idea. It is simple and ingenious. More importantly, it made me laugh.

Who knows, if you give in gracefully and keep your trap shut, they might even make you look good.

By the way, if you’re wondering why I have copied Mel on this, I’m simply ensuring that there are no “breakdowns in communication,” and that you don’t return with
The Dirty Dozen
meets
Babe.

	[email protected] 1/12/00, 7:32pm (11:32pm local)
to:	[email protected]
cc:
re:	praise be!!

God sayeth, “I have sorely tested the scallywags, Vincent and Brett, with pestilence and plague, yet still they are not smited down.” And God was pleased with them.

Then did God turn to His handmaiden Melinda and sayeth, “Visit Vincent and Brett in the still of the night. Tell unto them that Horne is indeed the slime-oozing viper that crawls the earth on its belly and that he shall kisseth their arses. Bring unto them the glad tidings that they shall make their script into a film that shall be broadcast across the whole land.”

And the film came to pass. And it was ripe with the quivering breast, the perky nipple and the saucy butt shot. And all the people of the land rejoiced and proclaimeth, “That Brett and that Vincent – diamond geezers.”

Yes, mate, we got a fucking result. We’re gonna wake Nathan now and tell him to get his shooting pants on. We’ve got a movie to maketh.

	David Crutton – 1/12/00, 7:38pm
to:	Harriet Greenbaum
cc:
re:	what the papers say

I’m going for a curry. If you are still here, you might like to join me and stay on to see Max Gregory and a copy of the
Sun.
At least that way I have you in my sights and know you are not sneaking off to confer with Weissmuller.

	Harriet Greenbaum – 1/12/00, 7:42pm
to:	David Crutton
cc:
re:	what the papers say

I am with Pinki at the moment trying to shoehorn Ivana Trump into the Freedom creative strategy, so I’ll sit out the vindaloo.

I’m afraid Trump’s mature and affluent profile offers a less-than-perfect fit with the 16–24 target that Freedom are chasing. This afternoon Pinki approved a campaign featuring Jenny McCarthy and a Nine Inch Nails’ track, which puts our problem into perspective.

I’ll see you when you come back.

	[email protected] 1/12/00, 11:59pm
to:	[email protected]
cc:
re:	Sun